Words for the boys, I've loved. Loved enough to hurt.

Words for the boys, I've loved. Loved enough to hurt.

1. I've never forgotten all of the firsts that you and I shared. The moments, the times, the depravity, the sensuality. I'll never forget that you handed me your heart. as I shared mine. I'll never forget the look in your eyes as we twisted your heart to make it hurt, the pain, the release, the love. I'll never forget how together for so many years, we enabled each other to be the person we were, the person we needed to be, the person we are. I'll never forget all that you gave, all that you took. I'll never forget what might have been, what could have been, but was never meant to be. I'll never forget you. I'll never forget.

2. We were connected you and I, in a way that surprised us both, with a connection that kept bringing us back over so many years, even though we knew that it wasn't meant to be.  I remember the tears that fell as a result of the spanking, the paddle or the twisting of the heart. But most of all, I remember the tears that fell the day that we had to walk away, the tears that came with the final goodbye. I'll always remember that pain, a pain like no other. I'll always remember you. 

3. You're included here because I loved you enough to hurt you, the reality is that love wasn't enough. While we did so much more than fuck, you fucked it up. There's nothing else to be said.

4. Oh god. I remember the beauty of your submission.  I remember your touch, your presence, your worship.  I remember your mouth against my toes, my skin, my cunt.  I remember the hours that passed as we talked through the night, of how determined you were to never fall asleep before I, the insomniac. I remember the emotional gifts that you gave to me, the way you permitted me to leave my mark upon your skin, the way you put your life into my hands as I took the breath away from your body.  I remember your acceptance of your place within my life, as I accepted your need to submit as a cuckold boy. I can still hear you beg for me to hurt you. I can still see the hurt and pain in your eyes that filled with love, as your tears fell, while you watched he and I fuck. I can still hear you gag the first time you took his cock into your mouth after it had come from inside of me. I can still hear the words "I'm yours", the sound of your voice, the touch of your hands, the beauty of you as you lay broken at my feet and still wanted more. I can still remember the depths of your submissive self. I can remember the love you had, the love you showed, the love we shared. 

5. It infected you. It affected us. A darkness that infiltrated every pore of your being, that led you to wanting to feel pain because it was the only way you could feel. The only time you could physically feel. Emotionally feel. If love or pain was enough to have saved you, you never would have died. I will carry you with me, always.  You were the last I truly loved enough to hurt. But your going left a pain that remains with me still.  My heart carried a love for you then, it will carry it for you always. 

Empty Dreams

Elusive sleep.

The night so cold

And all is empty.

The touch I need

yet I cannot have.

The night is dark.

The need is harsh.

I feel a longing

for heat,

for you

and you are far

a ghost it seems.

And the night

is filled with

only

empty dreams.

Out of the comfort zone...

I've never been much of a "scene" person. 

Munches hold little interest for me or to me. 

Clubs - I haven't really found them to be my "thing" either, I've been to a couple in the dim and distant past, but certainly as a "bystander" rather than a participant.

And I know that is just how it was then . . .but who is to say it is that way now?

I wanted to go to a rope workshop this week, but with everything else that happened last week I couldn't quite bring myself to go, even though I've always had a lurking interest in learning how to fling string.  I feel disappointed that I didn't just put myself there regardless of how I was feeling about going.

I would say that I'm more introvert than extrovert, I'm comfortable in that way and that works for me, I don't particularly care what people think of that, it's just how it is.  But life can pass by.  And I think that is how I am feeling right now.

Some recent events have made me really question myself, where I am, but more so what it is that I ultimately want and need from life.

This past week or so has really made me start evaluating, reflecting, and while it's also closed the heart off considerably, while it's put a wariness of trusting back in the forefront, it's also made me take a step back, reflect and see what I'm missing out on but also what I can do to change that.  Ultimately though, that can only come from one person - me! 

A short space of time has passed but various events within it has made me feel so much anger towards myself and the trust I'd put out there, it's made me feel all sorts of things that I really wish I didn't feel.  Other events have made me realise that life can be incredibly short, and that the loss of my friend as I wrote *here* has made me determined to make some more positive changes, to take some positive steps and that is what I am intending to do.

I'm going to step out of my comfort zone that is often far too comfortable for our own good, I'm going to step out of that zone and experience things that I may not have done before.  New things, different things, and yes I know that some things may make me feel uncomfortable, but as they say great things never come from comfort zones.

it's time to step out there, and it's time for some great things!  I'm going to venture to some clubs, I'm going to venture to some workshops.  I've got some great friends who share this lifestyle, it's time to reconnect until I hopefully am able to truly connect in the way that I want to - with one.

The bitch that is hindsight

"Forgive yourself for not having the foresight to know what now seems so obvious in hindsight" Judy Belmont

Hindsight can be such a bitch right!?

Wouldn't it be great if we had what hindsight gives us so much earlier?

What is it that stops us from seeing things at the time? 

Are we really so blind to things?  Are they really that obvious or is it more so, that some people can hide things pretty damn well?

Maybe it's a combination of all of these things, it's not hindsight bias but it's still a bitch!

Sometimes people say we can only do the best with what we know at the time, but what if we did actually know at the time, but just wasn't open to really seeing it? 

Who knows!? 

Whatever hindsight is a bitch!

And I hate it

There are moments, moments like this, like today, where there's a black cloud filling the day.  The sky outside may be clear and blue, the sun maybe shining, but here inside my head, over me, surrounding me is a big black cloud of fucking horrible funk.

And I hate it.

And I can't shake it.

I know it's a whole host of reasons, the arrival of Mothers Day which brings a whole host of feelings to me.  Throw in two nights of terrible insomnia, and the wonderful feelings of spending a matter of hours with someone followed by the drop and reality that it won't be for a while.   

And it all brings about a cacophony of emotions and feelings that feel like a stormy sea bashing at the sea defences. My defences.  I feel storm battered.

And I hate it.

And I want to turn the clock back to how I felt in the early hours of Thursday morning, the moment where I had an arm draped across my chest, a head sleeping on my shoulder, the weight of which weighed heavily but just brought about a sense of closeness in the darkness of the night that even when sleep eluded me I was filled with such a sweet and wonderful feeling.  And that seems so far away from where I am right now.

And I hate it.

I didn't sleep well last night. 

Neither did I the night before.  Instead the past two nights have been filled with a whole host of difficult feelings, painful reflections, I've had memories flood back in of the moment that people have literally drifted out of life, my witnessing their taking their last breath.  Haunted by the recollection of the time I almost drowned, I led there feeling just as I did at that moment, the way it felt as the water slowly filled my lungs as I saw life, my own life slowly ebb away.  I've had recollections of times in my life where it's been filled with such a sense of deep loss.

I feel haunted by the sense of loss, emptiness and sadness.  I feel like I'm drowning under a big black cloud.

And I hate it. 

And I'm trying to find the rays of light coming through the cloud and yet I am filled with a sense of foreboding, a sense of fear, as if something is going to go tearing through life and rip something else away from my heart. 

Right now, my heart feels vulnerable.  *I* feel vulnerable and quite alone. (A very rare thing for me to feel!)

And I hate it. 

Not the feeling of my own vulnerability, so much as that of my heart.  There is a beauty and a strength and a power in being vulnerable, of opening yourself up to someone and being vulnerable with them, to them, to the feelings you have.  But this heaviness, this darkness, this sense of emptiness that is enshrouding right now is quite overwhelming. 

And I hate it.

And my goodness, I'd give anything right now to transport me back to those early hours of Thursday morning, for that sense of warmth and closeness and just "being" in that moment. The closeness of skin, the closeness of feeling and watching him sleep, watching him breath, but just feeling. That moment.

But, the reality? Is that I'm as far away from that moment as I possibly could be.

Instead, I'm drifting into the darkness of a storm, the depths of funk that have come out of nowhere.  I feel as if I'm in a "drop", I feel disconnected in a way I don't want to be disconnected and yet, I can't disconnect from these horrible feelings.

And I fucking hate it!

Regaining my control...

There is something about the early hours of the morning, or is it the late hours of the night that brings about a time of thought, of reflection that other times of day do not seem to. 

As an insomniac, I see this time of night on a far too regular basis, and when the night is dark, when there is no sound, it can seem, for some an almost lonely time.  And yet, I am so used to this time, this space, these moments of stillness it often brings a sense of calm.  For me it is a time when the mind often floods with thoughts, with memories, as it recalls, as it reflects, as it tries to find an understanding of things that may be happening.

I've paced the house on a couple of occasions this week, watched the dark of the night gently fade into the light of a new day, a night which has passed without sleep, but certainly not without thought. 

I sometimes wish there was an off switch to the mind, to my mind.  I often wish that there was something, anything which would just switch off the noise in my own head, stop the agitated thoughts that flood the mind, helping to ease some of tumultuous introspection. 

And yet, it is often at this time of night when I can and do find a level of understanding of myself, my thoughts, the feelings I may have, but this has alluded me this week also.  As I take the time in the dark and quiet, to simply be. To simply feel.  To simply sit in the feelings and thoughts that I have to seek a level of understanding and clarity.  And it is often, at this time, that I reach here . . .my blog . . .my place where I can literally work through and find an understanding of where I am. 

(So . . .here I am . . . )

A lot of the noise this week has been work related, one of the downsides of being self employed when things aren't going as well as they should or were, when things are up in the air it can bring along a level of stress as you simply have to try and work things out, begin to make plans, try to step back from the situation that has brought this stress to the surface. 

It was hard stepping back for me this past week, situations left a level of anger that I've not felt for a long time, and still some of it lurks now (although the situation is almost resolved). 

But more so I don't like how this has had an effect on other things this week too.

And then of course, my mind is flooded with thoughts of something, of someone who has come into life like a damn whirlwind

:-D  (a rather wonderful one mind!) making the solid foundation gently rock and sway. 

It has been a long time since someone has filled my thoughts in this way, it's been a long time since I have physically found myself missing someone, of finding myself wanting to be with them, to spend time with them, to just be close.  It's been a long time since I've found myself drawn to someone, of wanting to learn about them, to get to know them to their very depths.  It's been a long time since there has been any other focus apart from my son and my work! So, it's all very different.  But all very good!

And I am here, trying to find an understanding of what is so very different, of what it is that my head? My Heart? Both? is not yet able to get an understanding of.  

The understanding alludes me right now. 

So I am here, delving and exploring, the thoughts in my mind, of where I am, after all I can always rely on a good writing session to help me find a clarity.

I love how things are so very different. 

I do not feel as if I've taken these steps before.  I do not feel as if I've walked down this path before and that for me is a wonderful thing. 

Truly.

But then, when things are so very different, it takes getting used to, you (*I*) have to find a steady footing, and then it's all happening at lightning speed and that's different too and that on it's own makes some things a little harder to comprehend...

And yet....

And yet, things do not seem too quick (in fact, my desires, my hopes, my thoughts are even further ahead than we actually are)!

But, simply put, I can't quite put my finger on the word that I need, of the word that would describe how it is, how I'm feeling.  I have so many thoughts and words flying around in my head, it as if they are all shouting at me, screaming at me to take notice and I can't quite hear.  Some of the words seem so negative though and there's not a negative thing about this in the slightest. (apart from the fact that it is the depths of the night and I am sat here alone  - wishing I wasn't - trying to find a clarity, trying to find words)

Unsettled? 

No.  As that would suggest an unease or that there was a worry sitting behind these feelings, of what is happening.  And I don't feel worry or unease.

It would suggest lacking stability and that isn't right either.

Agitated?  No. 

Flustered?  No. 

Perturbed, shaken, upset?  No. None of these. 

Not in the slightest.

Perhaps it is  (I am) unsettled in relation to change, change in life, change in thoughts, change in focus, change in where I am and where I want, (hope or desire to be).  Perhaps it is because life is changing, (has already changed) in a most surprising way and because I want it to change in many, many more ways.

Yes.  Perhaps that is it. 

Or perhaps it's just I wasn't expecting the unexpected and right now, I'm not in control of just how I am feeling?

Hmmmm..... (here comes the hitting the nail on the head . . .)

Yes.

Perhaps that is exactly it. 

A shift in the control I have of my own thoughts, of my own feelings, because of something so wonderfully unexpected. 

But, it isn't that I am unsettled, or that things are unsettling me, it's because I'm flooded with a whole new load of thoughts, and feelings and desires and longings and I wasn't expecting it.  I've been open to it, but it hasn't happened. 

Until now. 

And that's it. 

I'm at a point where currently I am not in control of where I am, of how I am feeling, of what I am thinking and I need to take that back, I need to find that balance, I need to be back in control of "me", in control of the thoughts, and finding the balance that feeds me and for the steps going forward.

And because I thought that the understanding of it all was alluding me, I felt unsettled and it is not that way at all.  I've actually been a little out of control of my own thoughts, my own feelings, of my own brain

Because after all, I think I've said it before . . . it's all about control.  ;-)

My words

My words

have come back to life since you, 

you see what I write
and I wonder if it means something

whether you understand what,

or who sits behind the written words

that sit in front of you.
I do not yet know how my words
are read by you or

what you may think of

the words that you see,
or if
and you my critic
are whom I care about

Exorcism

And now, to you, my passionately
beloved friend and sworn enemy,
I can turn and call
Farewell,
adieu,
bonanotte!
The words, however, are lost in my thought,
lost in the same place where
parasitic You hides. And, as we separate
and become…and become,
I want to say, perhaps,
“Parting is such sweet sorrow.”
And it is, yes. And it is a relief as well
For how did, why did,
I stumble upon you?
You, who knows me best for having
seen my worst. You crept so silently behind me,
but I always knew of Your presence-
although, I did deny You existed-
You crept so silently behind me
for many plagued years, enviously
eyeing my every move-awaiting eagerly Mistake.
You and I must no longer be. Salve.

Stay, I will leave.

Passing by in a blur

It passes by in a blur.

Life that is.

It has this habit of digging its feet into the mud and kicking up lots of crap that puts up a screen, it makes you lose focus, it stops you doing the things you want to do and the things that you have to do or must do take over.  

You lose sight, often of things which are still important as the other things take over.  You put on a back burner things that were once bubbling nicely.  You have to put on hold things that you really didn't want to.

Not because you want to.  But because you have no choice.

It has been like that for me this year.  Not just the past month or two, but the whole year.  The chance, the time, the motivation and the inspiration to write, has been missing.  The chance for many things has been missing.

Life is what happens. 

And of course it does. It has to.

But something has to give.  Yes, of course, you must prioritise and take care of things that must be taken care of.  The necessary things.  You have to fight through the things that you have to battle through. 

But something will happen that will make you STOP! and realise that things have to change, and that to enable that to happen, you have to make those changes.

That other things are important too.

That there are other important things that are needed in life, aside from the important, aside from those battles.  To ensure that those things that have just been on simmer can be brought back to the boil, so that there is time not only to do the things that you want to, but to enjoy them too.

Some things you just cannot prepare for.  Some things you just can't stop happening.  But, something has to give.

The past months have been filled with levels of stress that I've not had or known for a long while.  the insomnia is at its worst for as long as I can remember.

 But, with all this going in, it also brings home the void that is there, the void which I want but more so NEED to fill. It brings to the forefront what is missing, it shows you that life is passing by in one big blur. And it shouldn't.

While it is all under control (it has to be with me!) the time is coming when changes are being made.

Big changes.  Life changing changes.  

*I* am making those changes. I am taking control of those changes and what is happening to make it happen.

I took a moment to stop and smell the roses. 

An enforced time out which gave me time to do nothing but think. 

And that short time, of nothing more than a few hours gave a moment of clarity that hasn't been able to be there for so many months.

It was a wake up call for me that made me realise that I have to make some changes, not least to sort out the stress levels, but to fill that void, to make changes to life in a positive way.

It is no good just to "live".  I need to be "alive", I need to feel alive.  I need to LIVE.

Life is passing by in a blur.

I want to see life passing and enjoy it passing. I don't want to get to a point and wake up and see that I've missed the whole journey.  I don't want to get to a point and realised that I should have been sharing that journey.

It's time to make changes.

A missed opportunity

"I think we both missed out on a great opportunity here." Carrie, Four Weddings and a Funeral.


These words spoken by Andie MacDowell in the film having spent the night with Hugh Grant as she is leaving to go back to the US.  The realisation that something has potential, and yet bad timing, difficult circumstances prevents that potential from growing, from developing.  Of course in the film, they don't miss out completely as they do end up together.

But, it is those few words that echo in my thoughts right now, although it wasn't after spending a night, it wasn't after anything particular, but it's still something that recent events makes me think that yes, there's been a great opportunity missed out on here.

Something which could have been great, something with potential, something that could have been rather interesting and lovely.  But alas, that opportunity has been "thrown away", lost. Missed.

And I think we have. Both missed out that is.

And that is a real shame.

Bliss.

Now we’re in the bedroom.
The bed is our cocoon,
a soft haven. 

We pull the crisp sheets over our heads,
and we’ve created our own 
                                          pillowy world.

We are Gods. 

The sun shines
                       through the windows,
                        through the blinds,
peeking past the through the curtains.
Even though the sunlight snuck in, 
we welcome it. 

Life.

I open my eyes, 

Taking my first look at
The new world we have 
                         created, omnipotent.
A world of white sheets, 
warmth, 
our mingling scents... 
                                            and you…

You smile.
I can’t help
                          but smile back.

Why are we laughing?
Neither of us know;
but we are. 

Bliss.






© Kat

It isn't as easy as it seems . . .

A couple of days ago, I wrote about turning the pages, of how you get to a point when you realise that you're stuck on the same page and have been for a long time.

You get the feeling that you want to turn the page to get to a new bit of the story - to create a new part of the story.

And then there is the conflict - the part of you that wants to rush through the new chapters to see what unfurls.  Not in a rush to reach "the end" because, that's not really a place that you want to rush to ya know?

I mean, you don't want to get to the end, but you do want to turn the pages, for the chapters to happen,  and you want it to happen now, and it isn't happening fast enough or how you want to, and its frustrating - as if the pages are a little stuck together . . .

But while on one hand you want those chapters to fly through, to play out at full speed, the other hand is scared to even look at the title on the next page, scared of reading the first sentence.  Fearful of what it may bring and all of a sudden, the page that you were on, didn't seem so bad at all.

In fact, it felt like home. It felt safe and comfortable and a pretty alright place to be.

And maybe, just maybe, it is better to stay there.

Better to stay in the place which you know, the comfort, the safety of where you were.  Knowing the equilibrium, knowing the balance, knowing of what there was, and what there is.  Not having to step outside of that zone of comfort, not stepping into the new, or the unknown. 

It is a bit like being in a pair of your favourite old boots, knowing that they fit, knowing that they won't pinch or hurt, that you can walk safely in them, that you won't fall on your ass on a slippy path, that they won't let you down because they just "fit".

And yet, turning that new page is like putting on a new pair of heels.

Shoes not yet broken in, shoes which are new, which make you teeter when you walk, that you walk out with trepidation and an uncertainty because you aren't quite sure of your step, just in case you slip over and take a hard fall.  Just in case you hit the ground. Just in case it's all going to go wrong. Or fail. Or hurt.

And taking off those faithful boots isn't easy.

Putting on the new shoes is even harder, because, I mean, it's a risk. Putting them on, in case they hurt, in case you slip, in case you fall - it's a risk ya know.  And it isn't as easy as it seems changing shoes.  It isn't easy taking off the old pair of boots, just as it isn't easy to turn the pages for the new chapters. 

But there is something, just something that makes you wonder, makes you question whether you're ready for a new pair of shoes, whether you're ready for a new chapter, even if you know deep down that you are.  No matter how confident you maybe in yourself, it is a step. A big step.

Taking that step - regardless of how much you want to, need to, desire to or long to!

It isn't as easy as it seems.

It might have been.

"Of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these, It might have been."

John Greenleaf Whittier.

I think and reflect. Of what might have been.  Of what could have been.  But of what will never be.  And I guess, those thoughts are ones of melancholic sadness.  It is always hard to think of the loss of the potential.  Especially when we know exactly what that potential was or could have been.

It could have been. It might have been. It never will be.

  

Knowing me . . .

Today, I have been told that I am "scarey", "intense" and also "difficult to read".

How strange that people who do not really know me, make such a judgement without really knowing. If they knew me, they would know otherwise.

Someone also told me that I am a woman who needs their own "Mr Grey".

I mean WTF would I want with a Mr Grey? They couldn't be further from the mark in reality could they?

It goes to show, that people do not know me at all.

Not in the slightest.

What is it about people who *think* that they know me?  The reality is that they don't. Not really.  There is only one person who has truly known me, who truly knows me, and that is long gone.  But then he learned things about me in a way that no-one else ever has before, and most certainly never will again.  That isn't to say that someone will not learn the same things about me, but will just learn in a completely different set of circumstances.

He has been on my mind a lot recently.  But then, he was my reality of Fifty Shades (without the financial wealth however!) and that seems to be the topic of everyone's conversation right now.

It is a strange feeling when someone knows you better than you know yourself.  That they can do something without you having to ask, because they just *know* what is needed at that moment in time.  It is a wonderful feeling when someone knows the look, the smile, the touch and doesn't need an explanation of what is behind it.  That you can be locked in a peaceful silence, no need for words and yet they still *know*.

A rare. But wonderful feeling. 

I miss that wonderful feeling.  But more than that, I think that I actually miss someone knowing me in that way. 

Kiss in a perfect memory

Do you remember that afternoon in the park?

It was unusually warm for the time of year, the leaves that were hanging onto the trees made the dappled sunlight create such wonderful patterns on the grass beneath the canopy.

I wanted to climb under your skin.  I wanted to peel it back, tear you open, bare your innerself before me, making you open and vulnerable.

I can never remember the grass being as green and lush as it had been on that September afternoon.  The summer heat had failed to drain it of its colour.

I don't think I've ever had a more tender kiss.  Your lips were full and soft, they were filled with so many sentiments, filled with desire, with affection, with love.

When I leant down to meet you with my own, every single one of those things passed from your lips to my own, without a single word being spoken, without a single noise being made. A gentle tender kiss, yet filled with so much more.  Our tongues exploring, playing, teasing each other.  I can close my eyes and feel your lips against my own, reflecting upon the wonderful moment of poignancy, of attentivness, but certainly one without worries or solicitude.

The years pass.

Memories are filtered a million times and more, but I can still describe that kiss, that moment, just as I did back then.

It was tender. It was perfect.